Logic and Hypos
by Andalusia25
Summary: What if it was not only Spock Prime, but McCoy also helped convinced Spock to re-join the Enterprise crew?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own or profit from this**

**Summary: What if it was not only Spock Prime, but McCoy who helped convinced Spock to re-join the Enterprise crew? **

**This lovely idea came to me, and I just couldn't pass it up. This is either friendship or pre-slash however you want to look at it. **

**Much love to MegKevin for Beta'ing this for me, muah!**

Dropping down into the chair in the CMO's office, McCoy sighed. It had been a hellish twenty-four hours. Captain Pike was finally stable and resting, the _Enterprise_ was limping back to Earth and his annoying best friend was acting Captain. The surviving Vulcans had been examined by McCoy himself; he had not trusted anyone else to thoroughly complete a physical and emotional assessment. They were all fine, which was as good as could be expected. The rest of the crew was tired, but functional. While it was not the most ideal situation, things could be much worse. The physician assured himself that he had done everything within his power to help those who had been injured and try to save those they had lost.

Scrubbing his hands over his face, McCoy let his mind wander over the events that had thrust them from cadets to the Command crew of the Flag Ship. He shuddered as he realized that if he had not snuck Jim aboard, Earth would have suffered the same fate as Vulcan. Of course the blonde didn't have to get himself jettisoned onto an ice planet, nearly killed and then somehow beam back onto a ship traveling at warp speed to prove how _awesome_ he was. Then he further endangered his life by boarding the Narada to help bring back Pike. Not to mention nearly getting strangled to death by Spock.

Commander Spock… That was a unique piece of the whole puzzle. McCoy's mind began to call up any known facts about the other dazzling half of the insane command duo. Spock was half-Vulcan, half-Human. He had been the one to call Jim on the carpet for cheating on his test, the one who had forced McCoy to smuggle Jim on board. Yet, McCoy had liked Spock from the moment he watched the Vulcan put the hot-headed smug bastard in his place. He was blunt under the guise of emotionless, which was pretty damn sneaky, in the physician's opinion. The Commander even had the audacity to thank McCoy for standing firm when Jim's insubordination left him on the fast track for court martial. McCoy had nothing but Star Fleet after the divorce; just because Jim was his best friend did not mean he would jeopardize the small life he had re-built over the kid's temper. Spock was acting Captain, and as acting CMO, McCoy was not to interfere with his orders or he would have suffered the same fate. And the most puzzling piece was that Vulcans did not apologize or give thanks, yet Spock had offered him both for what he believed was 'taking his side'. Of course he had brushed them off and attempted to refute his claims.

Now that the adrenaline had ebbed, McCoy could see Spock's words for what they truly were: they weren't just olive branches; they had been the Vulcan equivalent of an offer of friendship. Gritting his teeth, McCoy's fists crashed into the couch cushions. The man had lost his mother, his planet, nearly all of his race and McCoy had thrown the fledgling offer back in his face. That was not acceptable, even if he had thrown Jim overboard. Grunting with the effort it took to stand, McCoy left his office in search of the green-blooded hobgoblin.

The monster that had killed billions of Vulcans and Lady Amanda Grayson was dead. With that knowledge, the weight burdening Spock's shoulders should have lessened, and yet it remained. Sitting alone in the darkness of his quarters, the Commander's emotional dam was breaking. His resolve, once so firmly in place was splitting, leaving behind a mourning young man with no logic to comfort him. His fingers still tingled with the stretch of reaching for his mother, his jaw still ticked with the determination of his suicide plot in the _Jellyfish, _and his mind was alive with all the repressed emotions.

Humans were a very emotional species, yet Spock had not been prepared for all the emotions that they would invoke within his own psyche. Jim Kirk had broken his inner walls, forcing him to admit his emotional compromise, allowing him to take over his acting Captain's role. Yet, only merely minutes later, he appeared to be sympathetic to the day's occurrences and willing to fight and die along side his new shipmate, forgoing the memory of his desertion on Delta Vega at Spock's command. During the finally moments of the Narada, Jim had offered a cease-fire between the two ships in order to save the Romulans from certain death. While it had infuriated Spock, the attempt at logic in such a cruel situation was surprising and sound. He was illogical, one of the most illogical beings Spock had ever encountered, yet he was loyal and compassionate.

Dr. Leonard McCoy, best friend of Jim Kirk, was another human who had managed to form an impression on the 'hobgoblin'. He had watched Spock subdue Jim and command his exile, yet he had not intervened or questioned the order. Humans were known for aiding one another in the face of adversary, but McCoy had not impeded the judgment in any way. Spock had offered a truce between the two men, and only then had McCoy snarled his response, though it was only in fear of not subduing the maniac Nero, not for the health or safety of Jim. Though when duty called once more, Dr. McCoy personally checked over Spock's healed wounds before allowing him to return to the repair assignments. The man feigned indifference, but his actions told another story. McCoy was just as fretful of Spock's well-being as he was of Jim's. His hands had been steady, respectful, concerned and comforting.

Shifting his thoughts, Spock remembered Nyota. The younger woman had offered her consolation, but Spock had found no comfort in her arms or words. In light of the new events, their romantic relationship would logically be terminated. Spock had been very blunt that their attachment would not be enduring. Nyota had agreed to the terms; she had no wishes to be permanently involved with someone. They had already begun to drift apart as her graduation neared, yet humans sought out comfort of familiarity during times of crisis. Nyota had kissed him for the first time in months in the turbo lift and again on the transporter pad. Allowing this re-kindle to continue would only be cruel. Deciding that he needed to speak with Lieutenant Uhura immediately, Spock exited his quarters.

Upon entering the corridor, the Commander and the Chief Medical Officer came nose to nose each lost in his own thoughts. Startled, Bones stepped back. "I'm sorry Spock." The words spilled from his lips, no malice or sarcasm.

Raising an eyebrow, Spock shook his head. "You were not expecting my hasty exit from my compartment, no apologizes are needed." He studied the human's face, surprisingly no longer in a hurry to leave his company.

Sighing, McCoy ran his fingers through his dark mane. "I'm not just apologizing for nearly plowing you down. I'm sorry for what I said on the bridge, for not understanding how important what you were saying really was." His forehead creased with concentration. "Look, I'm not very good at this, but I want you to know I've got your back. Ok? Heavens knows, that on this ship being run by that crazy half-cocked infant, we are going to both need all the help we can get." His hazel eyes searched Spock's brown for confirmation.

With a barely visible smile, Spock nodded. "I believe I understand, Leonard, and I return your offer." He was surprised to find that even with the human euphomisums, Leonard's confession delighted him.

Smiling, McCoy sighed as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. "Alright, well, I'll let you get back to your business, Spock." He ducked his head and left as quickly as he came. Spock could not help but watch his form disappear down the deck before continuing in the opposite direction.

**A/N: Thanks for reading**

**Anyone interested in continuing? **


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

**Thanks again to my sista MegKevin for reviewing this for me!**

McCoy had spent much of his time in the on-campus hospital during the few days after their arrival on Earth. Pike's condition was vastly improved now that McCoy had the proper equipment to operate on the delicate spinal injuries. At best Pike would walk with a limp, but the man was alive, and damnit McCoy was immensely proud of that fact. The now permanent CMO had been pulling double shifts attempting to treat all the wounded from the _Enterprise_ himself. Christine Chapel, his new CNO, was working just as diligently by his side because she was the only one he permitted to assist him in his efforts. None of the other physicians or nurses interfered; they understood his compulsive need to lay hands on every surviving member of his crew. They had sanctioned an entire wing to be devoted to McCoy and his patients.

Most of the command crew came to visit McCoy at various hours, each bringing their own special remedy. The seventeen year old genius, Chekov, had come bearing delicious food to help re-energize the weary physician some time around noon. He had stayed and talked while McCoy had wolfed down the food. The kid was really likable and funny. On the second day, and every day thereafter, Chekov had brought his helms partner, Sulu, with him. So along with the steamy food, was a reusable rice pillow to help relieve some of the tension in McCoy's neck and back. It was a small gesture, and yet it meant so much to the older man. Jim of course was visiting every day with some new and exciting story to flail about the room in his animated account of the actual event. Nyota, who had long since given her first name to the good doctor under penalty of death if he told Jim, brought cups of coffee that didn't taste like the mud he got in the cafeteria every morning before she reported for her transitional post. Her kind gestures and soft voice helped ease the pain of watching the mostly empty campus struggle to deal with the after effects of the attack. Even Scotty had sauntered in on occasion late in the afternoon and with the help of Keesner convinced him the world would not end if he took the time to join the Engineer in the sandwich shop around the corner.

Some how, some way this small group had wormed their way into McCoy's heart. They were now his family and he would have fought the hounds of hell to protect them. The grumpy Georgian found himself watching the clock awaiting the next group's arrival. With the humidity in the air from the ocean and the sun beating down on his weary back as his friends dragged him from the sterile hospital, McCoy felt at home. But there was one small piece missing. He had not seen Spock since they had touched down. While he would never admit it even under severe torture, McCoy was worried about the Vulcan. No one who came baring news ever mentioned him in any of their reports and McCoy hadn't the heart to ask of him. Well, that was the problem; he had the heart to ask, he just had the reputation to not care.

Currently, Jim was pacing his makeshift office spouting about his escape at the local bar the night before. McCoy had stopped listening somewhere after Jim had emphasized that there had been three women involved. "Hey, Jim." McCoy stopped him mid-rant. Finally he had built up enough courage, and mostly curiosity, to ask where the First Officer had been hiding.

The blue eyes turned their full attention to his best friend. "Yeah?" He relaxed down into the vacant seat on the couch. The man had never understood personal space, so it was a good thing that McCoy had no problems with being up close and personal with the younger man.

Not bothering to look up from his PADD so that his concern was not evident, McCoy raised an eyebrow. "I haven't been out of the hospital wing in a while. What all have I missed with the rest of the crew? I figured the green-blooded hobgoblin would be down here telling me how 'illogical' my every action was." He shifted his eyes and found that the blonde's shoulders had slumped and his face was drawn.

Looking down at his hands in his lap, Jim mumbled a reply. "He's leaving." The soft words fell like a ton of bricks in the quiet room.

Jumping up, McCoy started to rant. "What do you mean he's leaving us? He can't leave! Don't he know we need him?" He rushed to his desk, jerking off his tunic and pulling on a fresh one.

Not moving, Jim snickered. "I take it you've got a soft spot for a certain Commander?" Their eyes locked and McCoy could see Jim's uncertainty.

Rolling his eyes, McCoy came to the couch and patted Jim on the top of his head. "Calm down, you jealous toddler. We need Spock to keep you in line and I need him to make my life easier! Tell Chapel I'll be back." Not thinking any further about the sudden urge to drag the irritating man into space for the next five years, McCoy rushed out the door towards the other side of the campus.

Alone in his professor's accommodations, Spock was awaiting his father's arrival. The past few days had been taxing. All of his Star Fleet retirement formalities had been completed; all that was left was for Spock to inter-office the forms to Command, and yet he hesitated. It was his duty to the Vulcan race to assist in the relocation and propagation of the species. However, he had never been a welcome addition to Vulcan, he had never been accepted. So now, a tiny bud of resistance had formed deep within the half-breed's chest. Now at the very cusp of his life free of their constant torment, he was being forced to return to their grasp. Had he been fully human his response would have been 'it is unfair.'

The door chime brought him from his contemplation and rebellious thoughts. Standing, Spock straightened his robes. "Enter." His voice was rough from hours of disuse. As the door slid back, a comforting sight come into focus: Leonard McCoy, complete with his customary scowl. Spock was admittedly surprised to see the physician. They had not been in contact since the _Enterprise_ crew had arrived in San Francisco. In fact, the two men had not spoken since their meeting in the passage the night of the _Narada_ attack. "Dr. McCoy." Spock nodded and the older man came inside his abode.

Lifting his eyebrow, the doctor's eyes scanned over the taller man's features, his keen eye searching for anything that had been left untreated. While not satisfied with what he saw, but content for the moment, McCoy's hazel eyes burned into the brown ones before him, as if trying to pull his answers from Spock's very katra. "Spock." His one word answer was surprisingly genteel.

Motioning for McCoy to take a seat, Spock turned to the kitchenette. "Would you care for a beverage?" He ordered a hot tea for himself, resisting the urge to immediately question his arrival.

Settling on the couch, McCoy watched the Commander move gracefully in his home. "I would like a sweet iced tea." Spock nodded in acknowledgement, his air relaxed. Suddenly it felt too personal to have invaded his home; McCoy should have met him somewhere or asked him to come to the hospital. He nervously twisted his hands in his lap, trying to keep his eyes from darting around the room, from prying into the private life of the other man, yet his gaze was drawn to the exotic artifacts decorating the room.

Spock watched McCoy's eyes linger on the now invaluable pieces of Vulcan heritage in his quarters. "I brought them with me when I left Vulcan." His soft whisper jerked McCoy from his observations.

Bringing his eyes once more to meet his companion's, McCoy accepted the proffered tea. "I'm so sorry, Spock." He could not begin to imagine how it felt to have the only thing left of your home hanging on your walls on an adoptive home planet.

Spock sat opposite of the doctor. "That was your exact statement last time we spoke. There is nothing you can do, and you hold none of the blame." Taking a sip of his tea, he refrained from voicing how illogical his apology was, whether for his unannounced visit, studying his home or for the loss of Vulcan. Yet, Spock was touched by the human's genuine emotional extension towards him. "But I am grateful for your company and understanding." It would be illogical to deny the small threads of friendship weaving the two together.

Sighing, McCoy sat the drink down on the coaster. "Look Spock, I came over here because I've been told you aren't coming back with us." The worry on his face was apparent. "Is that true?" His voice betrayed his inner emotions, as it strained to leave his throat. The _Enterprise_ was not going to be the same without the logical man. Maybe he was just a sentimental old sap, but McCoy truly believed that Spock belonged with them out there doing God-knows what God-knows where.

Bowing his head, Spock took a deep breath. "It is my duty to my people to follow them to the new Colony, to help rebuild the Vulcan culture." He felt as if he finally had someone he could trust enough to voice his true opinion. "Duty comes first." That one sentence summed up the entire situation.

Jumping up, the human began to pace the living room. "You have a duty to us. Damnit! We _need_ you out there! How in the hell am I going to keep Jim alive without you?" He braced himself on the mantle, his head bowed. Already, from the one mission together, McCoy knew that it would take both of them working together tirelessly to keep Jim Kirk from being killed by the nefarious forces of the universe. Well, that was the only reason McCoy was willing to entertain. He did not want to think how deep his need for this lithe man ran.

Never before had anyone, other than his mother, shown such an attachment to the social outcast. "I will consider my options thoroughly, Leonard." He did not stand or move any closer to the man; Spock was not sure how he would respond to the emotions present under the deceptively calm surface.

Pushing off of the mantel, he straightened his shoulders. "I will accept that offer. However, if needed I have several hypos at my disposal that will render you unconscious until the _Enterprise_ leaves orbit and is so far into the Alpha Quadrant those Vulcans will have gotten over their hissy fits." Nodding once, he left Spock to his own thoughts. "And if you tell anyone that I came here and begged you to come with us, I'll shave your head and those pointy eyebrows while you are asleep. I am a doctor not a guidance counselor." He called over his shoulder, his voice once more a grumble.

Humor reflected the younger man's eyes as he watched McCoy's retreating form. It was pleasant to have such friends (as that was what he realized McCoy and it would be illogical not to acknowledge that fact, at least to himself), those who saw behind your own mask while letting their own slip at the same time.

**A/N: Thanks for reading!**

**So, as I was arguing with myself about how 'nice' McCoy seemed to be towards Spock verses the Prime Universe, I realized that even as cynical as Bones was, and still is, he would have been compassionate if the man had lost his whole race. Kinda like in 'Search for Spock' when Bones has Spock's katra . Or at least that is my reasoning. But I believe Bones has a heart of gold… and a really nice reboot bod to go with it…**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: See chapter 1**

**I've stolen part of McCoy's rant in his head from my work's mission statement, heaven knows I don't want to get in trouble with my employer for stealing their words.**

**Special thanks to MegKevin and GothicCheshire**

Noting that he had not received any urgent pages or messages from Chapel, McCoy decided to take his time in returning to the hospital. The sunshine and breeze were soothing and with the upcoming months of nothing but the artificial lights of the _Enterprise_, the doctor ordered himself a nice dose of Sol's warm rays. Finding an empty bench under a shady tree he sat down on the shore, watching the waves lap at the sand.

It was the first time since the attack that he had taken time to enjoy the beauty of the world around him. He saw San Francisco through new eyes. His thoughts drifted to the now-homeless Vulcans. They had been stunned into silence, their eyes blank. Huddling together, they had sought comfort amongst themselves, seeking others to help them recover. They were a group of intricately woven telepaths; each Vulcan death had been experienced by the survivors. McCoy had watched tears steak down their faces, their minds not able to contain the outpouring of grief. He had been the only human allowed to see them in such a state. That had spoken volumes of how respected he was amongst the rescued.

Yet, the only Vulcan who had remained calm, well at least until Jim had forced his rage, was Spock. His face was haunted by the pain, but the shock of losing his mother had kept him safe from the force of the other deaths, or maybe it was due to his mixed heritage. The only moment McCoy even doubted Spock's control during those awful first hours following the loss of Vulcan was when he wrapped his hand around the human's forearm. It was an unconscious movement that Spock probably did not realize he had even done. In those few seconds of contact, Spock's grief was nearly tangible to the physician. Not knowing what else to do, McCoy gently projected, as best as his human mind could, calm thoughts and understanding. He was a physician his first duty was to help treat his patients' needs, whether they be physician, emotional or spiritual. The Vulcan had needed emotional reassurance. Only now in the relaxing atmosphere of the beach was McCoy able to analyze and realize what had transpired between the two men.

Shaking his head to rid himself of those memories, McCoy brought himself back to the present. He had not given a second thought to those few minutes since and should not be dwelling on such things now. There had been other matters at hand, saving lives and trying to get Jim back aboard to save Earth, and now there were plans to prefect so that the Commander would be sailing with them to help with Jim Kirk. McCoy hoped Spock had not retrieved the memory of the shared emotional transfer. That would be an uncomfortable discovery. Smirking at the thought of ruffling the Vulcan's feathers, McCoy turned his attention back to the waves. Yet his humor evaporated at the thought of traveling once more into the unknown without the Vulcan. Surely there was a way to win him over, they needed him. The ship would not last a week in the hostile environment without his calm authority.

It was not long before an older man came into view, bringing McCoy from his melancholy thoughts. His hair was gray, yet his stature straight with his hands clasped behind his back. As he walked closer, McCoy noticed out of the corner of his eye the man's pointed ears. A sudden burst of anger filled the younger man. This was no doubt the Vulcan sent to collect the Commander and drag him away from the life he had built himself. Folding his arms over his chest, McCoy tried to ignore the man until he passed. He was surprised when the elder took the unoccupied seat next to him.

Gritting his teeth, McCoy stood to leave. "Leonard, I have come to speak with you. Please, allow an old man to talk." The gray-head man's voice was surprisingly gentle, as if he somehow understood the situation.

Sitting back down, too stunned to do much else, McCoy turned his attention to the Vulcan with the emotional eyes. "Alright." Answering through a clenched jaw, he rested his hands on his knees, turning towards the other man.

A faint smile tugged at the wrinkled cheeks. "Times have changed, many things that could have been shall never be. And yet there are some things that no matter the external forces will never be changed." His eyes twinkled with knowledge that McCoy dared not question. "The force of the universe is not superior enough to change the balance of a friendship as strong as the one which exists between James T. Kirk and Spock." The human open and shut his mouth, deciding against arguing for the moment and let the Vulcan continue. "And yet there is an even deeper friendship and understanding they each have with another man. Leonard 'Bones' McCoy is not just the CMO of a great vessel; he is the glue which holds together the definitive relationship between the two. His friendship is harder to gain, yet stronger than steel." His voice was powerful, nearly hypnotizing McCoy to believe anything that came form his mouth.

Raising an eyebrow, McCoy studied the face before him closer. It was oddly familiar. "I hate to break it to you, but just because Spock and Jim aren't trying to kill each other any more does not mean they have a great friendship. And the hobgoblin and I are on speaking terms, that's about it." He scoffed.

Raising both eyebrows, his companion nodded, slightly frowning. "However, time will help heal all the wounds Nero has left." His brown eyes were watching McCoy's every move.

Stiffing, the doctor flared his nostrils. "Look, I have no idea what you want from me. Your _relative_ is in his apartment preparing for his departure with the rest of the Vulcans to fulfill his 'duties' to his race. You've won, we've lost. If this is some kind of sick and twisted way to rub in your victory, you can stop. I don't have time to sit with some holier-than-thou emotionless Vulcan who is trying to spit out fortunes like some genie." His anger was bubbling to the surface.

Calmly, the gray headed man reached out his hand and laid it upon McCoy's shoulder. "I am not Spock's relative. I have not come to gloat; I have come to encourage you to keep reaching out to the young one. He needs guidance and help in a way that only you can provide with your unique style of friendship, Bones. You are a constant in his life that no longer has the variables on which he has so heavily relied. You are exactly who you appear to be, with no hidden agendas or treacherous pursuits." His eyes softened. "The Vulcan race will not be impeded if Spock chooses to follow his destiny in the stars. Your continued efforts to help him understand this fact would be greatly appreciated." With one final squeeze he rose from the bench.

Jumping to his feet, McCoy stared into the chocolate eyes. "I'll try to convince him, but I can't promise it'll work. He's stubborn." His face clouded with worry. "But if you aren't a relative of Spock, who are you and how do you know so much about us?" He searched his memory his face in any of the Vulcans that he had treated.

Cocking his head to one side, the older man studied McCoy's face. "I am now Selek. You do not need to worry how I know these things, only that I know them and they are the truth. Perhaps you can ask your two closest companions one day of my identity, for they both will have known me. I offer you one piece of advice, try to look beyond the pointed ears, you will find more than you expect." He raised his hand in the Vulcan salute. "Live long and prosper, old friend, and good luck, because you will need it." Before McCoy could recover, Selek took his leave.

Standing in the fading Californian sunshine, McCoy watched his form disappear into the curve. While McCoy was not one to believe without seeing it with his own eyes, something about Selek made him believe that his promises of a shared existence between the three men was the truth. Of course, that might just be his own hope whispering in his ear, but he dismissed that thought. Tomorrow, McCoy would make another house call to the professor and would continue every day until the _Enterprise_ launched. He still had five days to guarantee Spock would be beside Jim as they sailed into inky blackness of space. Because keeping Jim Kirk alive was worth swallowing his pride a few more times. But that damned man better never find out how far he had to go to make sure he had a voice of reason at his side.

Spock had not been allowed to ponder over McCoy's visit long. Shortly after the physician had left, Sarek had come to visit his son. The two Vulcans were sitting on the veranda sipping tea, watching the sun set. The weight of the decision resting on Spock's shoulder was nearly tangible in the warm air. Sarek had made no mention of the migration to the new Colony that a surprisingly resilient and resourceful new member of T'Pau's house had found. Whatever the answer to the unspoken question, the father would respect the son and not impede. Sarek had spent too many years exiling his own son for not following in the footsteps dictated by Vulcan society. He had once told the small boy that his destiny was his own path, and now it would truly be a path he chose for himself.

Knowing that Spock would not speak first, Sarek began the conversation. "I believe I saw Dr. McCoy leaving as I arrived. Are you in good health?" He sipped his tea betraying no emotions on his face or in his voice.

Spock knew his father was attempting to pry into the relationship he had formed with the humans during his tenure at Star Fleet. "I am in good health. Dr. McCoy was merely inquiring about my departure from the _Enterprise_." Keeping his face turned away, he hid the melancholy in their chocolate depths. McCoy's visit had planted the first stirrings of rebellion in the younger man.

Uncomfortable though it might be for both, Sarek knew that the time had come to discuss Spock's future. "Spock, speak your mind. Do not repress your desires either to leave or stay with Star Fleet." Spock hesitated, so the father continued. "I know that in the past I have not encouraged your advancements outside of Vulcan. I can now see that is illogical. You are very committed to the ideals and decrees of the Federation." He sat down his tea cup, folding his hands in his lap. "While the Colony needs all the aid available to rebuild our numbers and society, I will not allow you to sacrifice that which clearly means so much to you if that is truly not your desire." Sarek had always been very blunt with his child when they were in private.

Finally turning to face his father, Spock examined the older man's face. Regret clearly outlined his once stoic face. The death of his mother had brought his father closer to his own emotions, and forced him to confront the demons of his past. They had begun to repair their relationship. For the first time in his life, Spock felt as if he could honestly state his opinion without fear of condemnation, yet he still did not utter the whole truth. "I am Vulcan and I am needed with the rebuilding of my race." He squared his shoulders leaving no room for rebuttal.

Blinking, Sarek was surprised by his answer. Rising from his seat, he adjusted his long jacket. "I will be on Earth for five more days to complete my assignments. I do believe my departure will coincide with the _Enterprise_ launch. It seems that no matter your path, it will begin that day." Spock stood and followed him into the apartment, not commenting on his statement. "Shall we meet for breakfast again in the morning?" Sarek turned before exiting.

Spock nodded. "Yes. Breakfast will be acceptable." His voice was remorseful. He longed to tell his father the truth and hear his father finally whisper the words he so longed to hear.

Raising the customary salute, which Spock mirrored, Sarek took his leave. Spock turned to his mediation mat. His mind was not as focused as it once had been. The mission and the upcoming decision weighed heavy against his conscious.

**A/N: Thanks for reading**

**I think we are going to wrap this baby up in 2 more chapters, that's the plan right now at least. Would love to hear what you think!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

**Thanks for all the reviews, favs and alerts, they make my day. Thanks to GothicCheshire for beta'ing this for me **

All good plans are made with the best of intentions, and yet even with honest effort they sometimes fail. Even if those plans were made with saving your best friend's life in mind. McCoy had meant to make time every day to visit Spock while they were still on Earth and further urge the man's continued service in Star Fleet, yet the human had run into an unexpected complication. As with everything else in the physician's life, he was pushed further off track by his first love – being a doctor. The call of duty was first and foremost the most important thing in McCoy's life, and just as his ex-wife had learned, everything else would have to heed that call.

Christopher Pike had developed two unforeseen complications. Even with all the prophylaxis medication, several tiny blood clots had formed in his lower leg. When McCoy had returned from his first and only trip to Spock's apartment, Pike's left leg had swollen to twice the size of his right. As soon as he was able to remove the clot and reduce the swelling, McCoy noted that Pike was beginning to develop pneumonia from laying the in bed so long. Deciding that the physical and respiratory therapists were not properly treating his patient, McCoy had added his daily exercises and his percussion and breath treatments to his list of daily duties for the older man, completely shutting out any of the auxiliary departments from the Admiral's beside.

Within two days, Pike was nearly back to normal. Well, at least his aim was getting better; he could now hit McCoy with a roll of bandage tape as soon as he walked through the door. Not to mention his lungs were clearing, his WBCs were no longer elevated and the remaining microscopic blood clots were completely dissolved. But it was taking a toll on the physician. He had not left the hospital since the afternoon he had slipped away to the park, refusing to leave his patient in case he was needed. McCoy had assured Pike that the awards ceremony the next day would see him in presentable condition and he would be in attendance to hand off the ship to the new captain. Once again the incredibly talented and relentless physician had met a seemingly impossible timeline.

Sitting in his chair behind his desk with his head in his hands, McCoy glanced up at the clock. It was after midnight, all the patients were sleeping and Pike was not due for another bag of antibiotics for at least another four hours. Chapel had long since left him alone, knowing that arguing with him to leave was a useless waste of energy. The quiet hum of the medical machinery was like a lullaby to the sleepy physician. Resting on his chin on his fist, his hazel eyes slowly closed. He had not been asleep long when he heard his door open. Jumping up, prepared to once more pull his commanding officer from the jaws of death, McCoy turned face to face with the very Vulcan he had been trying to ensnare for the last week. "Spock." His voice was a mixture of surprise and relief.

Raising an eyebrow as he watched the human once more take his seat, Spock came to stand in the middle of the room. "I came to check the condition of Captain Pike." His voice was deep, clearly tired, yet his eyes were bright and awake. "I did not realize that you would be his physician and would still be on duty." It sounded as if Spock was trying to avoid the CMO.

McCoy motioned for Spock to sit opposite him. "I've been tied up with Chris constantly since I last spoke with you. He had a few things come up, but I think we've got it taken care of now." Sighing wearily, he raked his hands over his face. "What's goin' on with you?" He tried to smile and make light of the situation, not that Leonard McCoy was good at being anything other than sarcastic and a physician.

Raising an eyebrow, this time slightly lower than last, Spock regarded the other man thoughtfully. "There is nothing 'going' on with me. I am making arrangements for my accommodations on the Colony." Regret filled his voice; his attempt at remaining emotionless was forgotten. He had not been resting well either, his impending decision would not allow him to properly meditate. He had come seeking out McCoy, but now that he had found him, he was unsure what to do or say next. It was very perplexing for the Vulcan. He had never before been in such a quandary.

Slamming both his fists down on the desk, McCoy barked back a reply, his attempt to be gentle faded into the raging inferno deep within his chest. "What do I have to do to get you on the _Enterprise_? Hello! Is there anyone in that big head of yours? Or is it all empty space with logic rolling around? We need you! Why the hell won't you just come with us? We can't be that bad! Damnit, I am a doctor, not a dating web site. I can't do any better than I'm doing right now." His head fell into his open palms; this was not any easier than it had been a week ago and now his time was running out.

Struggling not to show his surprise at McCoy's outburst, Spock replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "I did not believe that after my attempt to take Jim's life on the bridge, that either of you would want me back on board the _Enterprise_. It is not logical for you to place the life of your best friend into the hands of the man who has shown to have been violently emotionally compromised in his presence. I would have thought you would have placed Jim's safety much higher on the list of character traits for the First Officer." His brown eyes reflecting his regret at his lack of self-control with a twinge of condemnation in his tone as he held the older man's gaze.

Snorting, McCoy rolled his eyes. "Yea right, do you know how many times I've wanted to choke the bastard? Just because one time you had him pinned with your hands around his neck does not necessarily make you the worst thing in the universe for him. You're damn right that I want his safety to come first. Can't you see that you are the only one, well, the only one left, that can handle him? I'm not blind or stupid, I know exactly how much hell it's going to be keeping up with him and keeping him alive. He needs you, Spock, and thereby by default I need you too. He's not going to turn you down." His voice grew with conviction with every word.

The uncertainty in Spock's eyes forced him to continue to plead his case. "Do you think I'd come and ask you to do something if I didn't damn well think it was the best for everyone involved? I don't spend my days picking daisies you know. Are you still worried about that incident? Do I need to get Jim in here so you can apologize to him?" He made to stand, but Spock stopped him.

Raising his palm to keep McCoy sitting, Spock shook his head. "No, Jim and I have already discussed, at length, the incident on the bridge. It is not the Captain's opinion that concerns me." His words were slow and deliberate hoping to convey his reluctance.

Taking a few moments to understand what Spock was truly saying, McCoy's forehead creased in concentration."You are worried about the rest of the crew. How we all see you." His hazel eyes flashing as he pointed a finger at his companion.

Dipping his head, Spock continued. "Precisely. A Commander strangled his superior officer in front of several witnesses on the bridge, then only to have Jim take command of the vessel and save not only Captain Pike, but Earth and the Federation. The persona I have projected to a fledgling crew is not something I would have preferred." Shame echoed across his face and in his words.

Standing up, McCoy came to tower over the younger man; his patience had just met the end of its rope. "So, instead of manning up and saying that you screwed up and ask for forgiveness, you are going to run away? Act like a little dog with its tail between its legs and run home to _Daddy_? Spock, give me a break! That is the lamest excuse you can come up with! Vulcans are not perfect! You had just lost your whole damn planet! How were you supposed to act when someone starts demeaning your mother? I'm gonna tell you like Jim would tell you: 'grow a pair' and get over it. We need you on that damn ship. Get over your pride, and pack your bags. If you aren't on that ship with us, there might not be a New Vulcan when yet another crazy-ass psycho decides they don't like Vulcans any more. And that would not be the _logical_ choice for one as highly experienced as yourself." His face was red with anger and his hazel eyes were blazing with challenge. "Are you man enough to face the dangers in space or do you want to hide and watch the best years of your life pass you by because of your so called 'duties' and your first impression with the new crew?" He was done with the kid-gloves, he had played nice long enough.

Spock sat quietly at McCoy's breathing returned to normal and he moved back to his seat. While he did not understand the human's thought process, and he doubted his ability to ever master their illogical ideas, McCoy's argument was sound. "The statistical likelihood that Jim Kirk will be more successful with me by his side is 79.8 percent higher as compared to the other current officers who have applied for the position. However, Captain Kirk has made no offers to anyone for the vacated position, thus leading me to believe that he is also expecting my sudden interest in candidacy." He lifted an accusing eyebrow in the physician's direction as the other man tried to avoid eye contact.

After so many long days, McCoy's tact was dead and buried. "No shit, Sherlock. I've been trying to tell you that for how long now?" He held up a hand before Spock had a chance to get technical. "Tomorrow is the Dedication Ceremony. It would mean a lot to Jim, and to me, if you were there whether it's your final act as a commissioned officer or your first act as Jim's Commander. Please consider it." Perhaps if Spock were once more around the crew, he would see how well even as a Vulcan he fit in with the rest of them and how much they all relied on him.

Considering the request, Spock stood. "I will attempt to be present." He nodded. "It is very late and you should be resting. Please give my regards to Captain Pike." Turning to leave, McCoy's voice stopped him.

Trying to find anything to keep Spock from leaving, the physician called after him. "He's Admiral Pike now, Commander." He couldn't fight the swell of dread this might be the last time he saw the younger man.

With one more nod, Spock was gone. McCoy was sure that picking cotton in the middle of August was an easier task than swaying a stubborn Vulcan, but this Georgian bulldog did not give up a fight that easily.

**A/N: Thanks for reading!**

**Drop me a line and tell me what you think, pretty please**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: See chapter 1**

**I have purposefully skipped over any parts that we in the movie. This one has a little rougher dialogue, but Bones is mad and when Southern gentlemen get mad they have the vocabulary of a sailor, so it's actually quite clean considering. **

**The plot bunny's cousin, the Wrap-it-up Weasel came to visit me to day **

**Thank you for everyone who has visited the story! **

Spock did not show up for the Ceremony, and McCoy was pissed for two reasons, well technically three. One, he should have been there to watch Jim awarded his Captain stripes. Why? Well, he was the First Officer when Jim had saved the whole damn planet. Two, Pike was _there_. McCoy had worked day and night literally to ensure that man was alive, and not just alive but well on his way to being 100% again. And third, because McCoy had asked him to come. He had opened himself up, swallowed his pride and asked the green-blooded hobgoblin, son of Pan himself to come and bare witness with the rest of the crew. To be honest, that probably is what stung the most for the older man. It was a simple act of extending friendship that had been thrown back in his face. It stung like of son of a bitch.

Currently, McCoy was stuck beside the _glowing_ Jim Kirk as the reporters, fans and Command watched him head towards the shuttle craft. They were lavishing attention on him like he was the King of England, and of course the little farm boy was soaking it all up. Had McCoy not been in a bad mood before, that disgusting display of _Kirk_-_fever_ would have definitely done it for him. They had rolled out the freakin' red carpet, literally, for the crew to walk to the _Galileo_. It was disgusting, and yet in the back of McCoy's mind he couldn't help but think that if Spock had been there he would have had the whole crowd, crew and Jim under control. But of course the little shit had skipped out on them.

Sulu and Chekov manned the shuttle and had them back onboard the _Enterprise_ before McCoy even had time to realize they had lifted off. Jim was talking ninety-to-nothing about some girl he had spent the night with, and how many more women were willing to wait for his next shore leave. It was a front. McCoy had known Jim long enough to see through his façade. He was trying not to think about Spock, just as much as McCoy was, and boy were they both failing miserably. Some how it just didn't seem right that there was only two of them, not three.

As soon as the shuttle landed and the two men filed out the air lock, McCoy turned to face his newly commissioned Captain. "Well, Jim, you've done it. The _Enterprise_ is yours." He smiled, honestly happy for the younger man, and patted him on the back.

Returning a smile that didn't reach his eyes, Jim nodded. "Yup." He took a deep breath. "Well, Chief Medical Officer, will you be on the bridge when we leave space dock?" There was the tiniest plea in his mid-western twang.

Smirking, McCoy rolled his eyes. "Of course, I have to make sure that you don't break the ship before we get out of the solar system." He chuckled and turned to take his leave.

Finding his way to the newly repaired Med Bay was easier than McCoy thought it would be. The ship was already home. Each turn, whether he had navigated them before or not, felt like further slipping into an old glove. Most of the faces he had seen before, but this time they weren't covered in cuts, blood or machinery grease. There was now a light in those once dull eyes, the pain of loss was still there but the thrill of the new adventure burned bright.

Med Bay was as sterile, white and bright as it had been before the attack. Chapel was already directing the nurses. She was efficient but soft-spoken, hard working but not over-bearing, she knew what she was doing but didn't flaunt it. She was exactly what McCoy needed. "Chapel, are we prepared for take off?" He accepted the PADD she was already handing him.

Nodding, but keeping her eyes trained to the new nursing staff hurrying away from the CMO, Chapel responded. "All staff is accounted for, Med Bay is full stocked." She flashed him a quick smile before assisting a young orderly with stocking a supply cabinet for the whole supply of bed pans crashed down on top of him.

Glancing down at the PADD, McCoy scribbled his name and turned to his office. He had been in his cadet reds too long, they needed to come off. The press conference had left them with very little time before they were due to ship out. He had enough time to change before he was needed on the bridge. Busy was just how McCoy preferred to be, it kept his mind clear of other things.

As he was tugging his boots back on, someone knocked on his office door. "Enter." He hoped it was not some new nurse trying to earn brownie points early on, he was not that kind of boss. Instead, when McCoy turned to face his guest, he saw a young man in his blue tunic with an impassive look on his face. For a moment, he could not say anything, but finally he found his voice. "Spock." Once again the Vulcan's name on his lips was like a prayer.

Inclining his head towards the human, Spock took a step closer. "I have come first to speak with you. It is customary for those of close acquaintance to thank each other when one has done something to significantly improve the station of the other." He paused. "I want to thank you for continuing to urge me to continue my service in Star Fleet." His brown eyes were watching the human before him intently.

McCoy's hazel eyes grew large. "So that means you are staying with us?" He took a tentative step forward.

Nodding, a hint of a smile ghosted across Spock's face. "I believe this is where I will be of the most use." He chose his words carefully.

Narrowing his eyes, McCoy stepped even closer to the taller man. "I'm glad you are here, but if you tell anyone how I came and _begged_ you to come with us, your annual physicals will be fresh out of the Dark Ages. You have twice as many pain receptors as a human, and I know everyone's location. I am a doctor, not some Camp _Enterprise_ recruiter." He crossed his arms over his chest.

Raising an eyebrow, Spock looked down at the older man. "I have no intention of explaining to anyone how an _emotional_ human lead me to make my decision." He also folded his arms over his chest.

They each stood like that, stares locked for several seconds before McCoy rolled his eyes. "Jim wants me on the bridge. I can expect you to follow, right?" There was not the least amount of hope in his voice, _at all._

Spock nodded, and they both departed from his office. Spock turned to the left, he would have to check in with the Quarter Master and McCoy turned to the right, heading towards the turbo lift. They were seeking new life and new civilizations, bolding going where no man had gone before. Both following the brightest star in the night's sky, Jim Kirk, each would protect him and keep him from harm. They were all family, the only family they had left.

**A/N: Thanks for reading**

**If you've hung on 'til the end, surely you can leave me a review **** No, I am not **_**begging**_**. Psh. lol**


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